


Draco Malfoy: Rewriting the Narrative

by httpsashtrid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death Eaters, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Draco Malfoy Has Issues, Dumbledore's Army, Eventual Relationships, Friends With Benefits, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, Multi, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Relationship(s), Rebel Draco, Rebellion, Slow Burn, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 01:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15377703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/httpsashtrid/pseuds/httpsashtrid
Summary: After experiencing a major existential crisis, Draco Malfoy realizes he wants nothing to do with Voldemort, his father or any of the Death Eater's plans. He realizes he never truly had one thought of what he wanted, it was only what his father planned for him.What happens when Draco decides he works for no one but himself? What happens when he plays the turncoat against the Death Eaters and becomes the spy for Harry Potter and Dumbledore's Army?(Inspired by my previous work, Draco Malfoy: The Time He Rewrote Himself Back Into The Narrative.)





	Draco Malfoy: Rewriting the Narrative

Sleeping was a truly repulsive thought for Draco Malfoy. 

What was once his favorite part of the day became the time he dreaded the most. The darkness of the Slytherin dungeons once brought him comfort. Now it only made him feel cold and alone. The Astronomy Tower in the latest hours of the night once calmed him. Now it only brought him with thoughts such as _jump, jump, jump, jump-_ until he gasped and sputtered for air as the world and stars spun and faded before his eyes. 

It seemed as if Draco’s entire world was flipping upside down, and if he didn’t know that already, he would soon find out for certain in the months to come. 

Draco’s body jerked up and his heart nearly hammered out of his ribcage. His blonde hair was flattened onto his forehead, falling nearly into his wide, fear-filled light eyes. He clutched at his black satin night shirt, attempting to will his heartbeat to still enough for his panic attack to chase its self away before he could burden Pansy and Blaise with his pathetic nonsense. A gentle but firm hand rubbing his back told him he was too late. His head snapped to his right to see Blaise Zabini, his lifelong best friend staring with a sympathetic gaze at him, worry etched into his features. Draco’s gasping refused to cease until Blaise gently tugged him into his arms. The realization that Draco’s head was lying on his best friend’s chest hadn’t quite hit until the soft _thump, thump, thump_ of Blaise’s heartbeat echoed into his ears. Draco closed his eyes and listened until his breathing slowed enough to let out a soft but shaky, watery sigh. He threw an arm around Blaise’s waist lazily. 

“You alright, mate?” Blaise mumbled sleepily, his voice vibrating the side of Draco’s face. 

“Yeah,” he replied simply. It was so far from the truth, and the two boys knew that. This was a normal occurrence for the them. Sleep for an hour or two, perhaps three if they are lucky enough. Draco has a nightmare. Blaise gets up to comfort him, hold him, talk to him until he calms down. Sleep again. Next night repeat. “Are you?” he managed after the silence that lasted a few moments. 

“As long as you are. Just tired.”

Draco sighed again, picking up the hand that was not attached to the arm wrapped tightly around him and began to lazily play with Blaise’s tanned fingers. “I’m sorry...” he muttered. “Truly, I am.”

“Don’t be,” Blaise responded. He allowed Draco the moment he knew he needed in order to determine if Blaise was lying or not. “I don’t mind laying here with you. You’re warm. It’s bloody cold in the dungeons during the winter anyway.”

That earned a tired chuckle from the Slytherin Prince. Blaise tangled his fingers with Draco’s, and he pulled him closer when he felt his friend tighten his grip on his hand. Draco peeked up at him under the assumption Blaise had fallen back asleep. 

He hadn’t. 

Blaise gazed back at him through lidded dark eyes, meeting Draco’s. The electricity between them flickered and flamed up as the seconds went by. After a few beats, Blaise leaned down and pecked Draco’s lips. Clearly, Draco was having none of it, and he whined quietly before leaning up further and recapturing his lips again. This time, it was longer, more passionate. The kiss lasted until the two had to break for air, but the staring did not stop. Blaise smiled a little and pecked his nose, making Draco crinkle it up. If Blaise were able to take a picture he would have. No one would ever believe him if he were to say Draco Lucius Malfoy is simply a slightly nerdy, cuddly, crinkly nosed boy whose eyes light up like fireworks when he completed a new potion or got good marks. 

“You’re cute, you know that?” Blaise said. 

Draco’s nose scrunched up again. “Am not. Malfoy’s are intimidating and fierce. Not cute and cuddly.”

“Then what d’you reckon we’re doing now?” Blaise raised his eyebrows in question. Draco hmphed and plopped his head down on Blaise’s firm chest once more.

“Shut up, wanker.” 

Another laugh. “Goodnight, Draco.”

“Goodnight, Blaise.”

Draco and Blaise’s friendship was close, perhaps too close to even be considered only friends. Sometimes they kissed. Sometimes they held hands. But they definitely did not want a relationship. This was an unspoken rule between the two of them. No _I love_ _you_ 's without meaning it platonically. No boyfriend labels. Nothing of that sort. They were only friends. Just... very close friends. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Yet another night conquered. Until tomorrow night. 

Breakfast in the Great Hall was a struggle for Draco at times. Normally, he would eat and lightly joke and converse with his small circle of friends. Today was one of those days in which he had absolutely no appetite, forcing himself to pick at his food in order to keep Pansy’s worried clucking at bay silently. His eyes were dull and lifeless, his body numb, but his mind running a mile a minute. All he wanted was to crawl back into his bed and die. It took all of his power not to lean his head on his hand or bang his head on the table. 

Blaise’s hand stealthily snuck underneath the table and squeezed Draco’s knee as a comfort, his eyes not wavering from Theo’s as the fellow Slytherin animatedly recalls the happenings in his Defense Against the Dark Arts class from the previous day. Draco reached down and covered Blaise’s hand with his own. 

Blaise squeezed two times asking _You okay?_ wordlessly. 

Draco squeezed back once. _Yeah._ Twice, a little harder than Blaise’s previous. _Thank you._

Blaise traced _No problem_ onto Draco’s knee with his pointer finger. _We’ll talk later._

One squeeze. 

Pansy looked over at her friend from across the table. She was aware of Draco’s depression throwing him deeper into the dark. It was obvious to anyone who knew him personally. He was losing even more weight, making him begin to look almost skeletal, his already pale skin turning to more of an unhealthy hue. He looked miserable, and Pansy knew it, too. 

“Draco, love?” she tried gently. Draco’s head perked up a little bit. She saw him place his mask of “I’m Fine” back on before responding. 

“Yes?” 

“You haven’t been eating very well this morning. Are you alright?” she asked. 

“Yeah, Malfoy, feeling a little under the weather?” Theo asked. “I know it isn’t my place, but I think just about everyone in Slytherin house can tell when you aren’t at tip top shape. You’re beginning to look quite ill.”

“Oh,” Draco tensed just slightly. “That’s just it, Theodore. I’m beginning to fall ill. Tragic, really. I _never_ get sick. Pansy, dear, remind me to owl Father for some of my potion, yeah?” 

“Of course.” she responded. Of course, she didn’t believe him for a second. Of course, Draco still had a reputation to uphold. Because of this, she didn’t say a word to contradict his faulty excuse until later when they began to walk to their first lesson. 

“Another nightmare?” she had asked. 

“It’s alright, Pans. I’m just tired, is all,” he said. He gave her a slight smile. “I appreciate it though.”

“Draco, you can lie to everyone else, except me and Blaise. You know that. You’ve always been a rubbish liar when it comes to us, and you know it.” 

Draco seemed to freeze. He sighed, stopped, and turned to look at her. “Can we talk about this later please?” 

When Pansy finally was able to look into his eyes, all she saw was exhaustion and depression. She decided it was best to drop the subject for the moment. 

“Alright, fine. We _are_ talking about this later, Draco Malfoy.” she commanded with the air only a Slytherin would have. 

“Of course. Now, I really must get to my class, or I’ll be late.” 

With that, he was gone, spine straight, chin held high, and his cloak billowing behind him as he strode down the corridor with a façade of confidence. 


End file.
